


Break Room

by Redrosesforever



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, trying to write gabe is hard?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-11-23 02:13:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11393241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redrosesforever/pseuds/Redrosesforever
Summary: Moria is tired. So tired. And she has this blueprint to make for the morning. It's 3 am. Please give this woman a break.





	Break Room

**Author's Note:**

> So here's another piece of my OC, and also my first time writing Gabriel, please tell me how I did and if I wrote him right ;~;

Moria’s pencil fell onto the table as she slumped over her new design. A hand went up to her head, propping her up and pushing some of her ginger hair into her vision. She plucked it up lazily, returning to the blueprint for a recovery droid that was meant to deliver supplies to the medics on field. 

She blinked, losing focus as she turned to her holo-feed display: 2:41 am. She groaned, falling back into her chair. She had been working on the design for at least 5 hours so far, and it felt like she made no progress whatsoever. She had to figure out the wiring, the pneumatics and pumps, and where to put the waste the machine made and yada yada yada, all the details.

And, of course, her supervisor wanted this as soon as possible, which usually meant she wanted it done by the next day.

Which meant an all-nighter.

She gathered up her equipment with a heavy sigh, shoving it haphazardly into her metal box-case. She needed to move around, she supposed. Then maybe she could figure it out. She just wanted to yell at the supervisor honestly.

She carried herself to the outside of her room, sliding the key into the lock, then again to be sure. She didn’t bother holding herself up as she did during the day – no one would be here to see it. She kept her footsteps light, though. It wouldn’t do well to wake others just because she had to work. Although as she passed several doors, she swore she could hear people moving inside.

They probably had work too.

She passed one security guard on her way to the lounge area, who shined a flashlight onto her. She scowled as she flashed him her key card, blinking up at them through the light. She heard him hum and continue on his way. Her shoulders slumped forward again.

She huffed, her eyes adjusting to the dark again. She clutched her box as she neared an employee break room, opening the door and peeking in slowly through the crack to see if anyone was in there. She sighed internally when she saw no one and moved in to sit at one of the wooden tables and padded chairs. It was nice having vintage furniture she thought, having metal make up the entire building could be confining and cold at times.  
She turned on one of the overhead lights, setting it to a gentle, almost romantic glow on her table. She started pulling out her stuff again, organizing them in front of her and the plans under a different light.  
She took a deep breath, and let it out. She spread her weight onto the table, letting it alleviate her aching back.

Moria picked up her pencil and started writing out the basics for the needed components, hoping that by some miracle she’d stumble on the answer she was looking for. The new space did nothing for her. This felt like … she didn’t know, her geology class in high school? Planning wasn’t her strong suit when it came to engineering. It all just turned into a blur and she fazed out.

And yet she was still expected to do this.

But she couldn’t just tell the supervisor she couldn’t do it, she hadn’t worked this hard to be incompetent. She couldn’t risk losing this.

“I didn’t expect someone to be here at this time.”

She bolted in her seat, eyes snapping open and her heart racing. The pencil clattered as it fell onto the table, her hands grappling onto her sheets to stop it from rolling off. She recognized who that was by the deep, velvety voice.  
“Commander Reyes! Sir! I – Sir! What’re you doing here!” She looked around, seeing his figure in the kitchen area, squinting to get a look at where he stood. He seemed to be holding a mug near the sink.

“For god’s sake, it’s 3 in the morning. You don’t need to be so loud.” He set down his mug. “As for what I’m doing here, I could be asking the same question.”

Moria didn’t know how to act. For one, she was mortified about being told to be quieter, she should know better. She kicked herself internally for that. Secondly … how was she to act? He was still her Commander, but it wasn’t a formal setting so did ranks still apply?

“I – well, I have this plan to uh … work on. It needs to be done by tomorrow … morning.” She shuffled her papers, getting them organized and packed up. “I’m so sorry sir, I’ll leave you be.” She felt her cheeks turn red in embarrassment, hopping off the chair before she heard a deep grunt and saw him wave his arm. He moved closer to her, the scent of dark, cheap coffee filling the air.

“Don’t. I don’t mind. Sit.” She sat back down, her insides turning at his proximity. She clasped her hands together tightly in the fabric of her dress. He himself pulled a chair up to her table, his features becoming more visible as he moved closer to the light. 

He never seemed to look bad, even in the dim light. He wore his standard beanie and Blackwatch uniform. Did he not change from today’s shift?  
Even though his darker skin made it harder for her to see him, if she looked closer she could see the scars on his face and a few wrinkles. But overall, the light seemed to make him almost glow. She almost let a smile grow on her face.

Her first thought was that he looked handsome. She mentally slapped herself.

“Did your supervisor set you up with this?” He seemed relaxed, almost as if it was 3 in the afternoon instead of the morning. He set down his cup and looked over her documents from his angle, eyebrows furrowing. She wondered if this was a regular occurrence with him. 

“Yes sir- “

“You don’t need to call me sir. Sometimes I just want to be a regular person and not a god damn commander all the time. I’m sure you can understand?” He gave her a smile before taking another sip of his coffee.  
She felt herself relax, her shoulders dropping a bit and again leaning herself on the table. “I can. Of course.” She gave him a smile in return.

He looked into her eyes for a moment. She felt her heart jump before he turned the papers around, focusing onto them. She leaned herself back into her seat; she shouldn’t get ahead of herself. She waited for his reply, watching his gaze travel over the blueprints.

He shrugged after a bit and slid them back to her, taking another sip. “It looks complex. From my knowledge, something like this should take you something like a week to figure out, not a night. I’ll have a talk with your supervisor.” He frowned, shaking his head.

“No! Well, you don’t have to do that, really, it’s not necessary.” She turned the papers around. “I mean, she didn’t say she wanted it tomorrow, just ASAP, not the next morning.” She nervously chuckled through her words, realizing that he might think she’s just putting the pressure on herself.

“You’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself.”

Shit.

She hung her head, muttering under her breath, “(To hell with you …)” She looked up, confused when she heard him chuckle in response. 

“(I’d watch what you’re saying in front of a Commander, even if it’s in another language.)”

She felt her skin crawl. “I – I wasn’t aware you spoke Irish, sir. Please forgive me, I didn’t know.” She stiffened, waiting for his reaction. His only response was a dismissive wave of his hand and another sip, the cup almost empty at this point.

“Many people aren’t aware of it. Overwatch is an international organization, it’s essentially required to speak as many languages as you can.”  
She hadn’t thought about that before. She supposed she had some advantage, knowing Canadian French and Irish, but she figured higher ranking officials probably had to learn like 8 languages. “What other languages do you know?”

Reyes’ fingers started tapping the table. “A bit of German, some Chinese, Telugu, Bengali, a bit of Irish as you know… and Spanish.”

Her head tilted in wonder. “Did you take lessons? Or did your parents teach you some languages?” A frown grew on his face at that, an exhausted sigh escaping him.

“Everyone assumes that I know Spanish because I’m Latino,” A hand gestured to his face. “But I grew up in L.A. English was my first and only language in the house. No, I had lessons.” His irritation still lingered on his face, now with him looking away from her. She felt a pang of guilt. She didn’t mean to upset him.

“I didn’t mean to presume. I’m sorry.” 

It took a few moments before his face softened again, finishing the last of his coffee.

“At least you apologized.” He stood and walked over to the sink, placing the mug inside. She followed along, leaning herself against the counter with both hands, her work completely forgotten.  
They stood for a few moments, silence hanging in the air like a warm blanket.

Then they stayed for a few more.

It was getting awkward.

She shifted on her feet, her gaze dropping to her shoes. She felt like she needed to say something.

“You … uh … don’t have to talk to my supervisor, really. I’ll be fine.” He was silent for a moment after, visibly thinking as his face furrowed. He shrugged, walking around to the couches in the room.  
“If you insist.” He plopped himself onto the couch, settling himself before he asked, “Would you like to sit? If it’s alright, I’d like to ask you some things.” 

She couldn’t help the momentary smile that grew on her face, her hands clutching at her dress again as she settled onto the couch as well. She felt the cushions dip beneath her weight, the soft and plush fabric pushing up the fabric of her dress slightly. She leaned back, propping her head up on the armrest.

“So … you have an interesting track record.” She felt herself stop and her smile fade; she wasn’t expecting that. “Double manslaughter– that’s not something to take lightly. Of course – “ He shuffled in his seat, turning his chest more towards her. “- I’m not going to make you talk about it. We can forget I mentioned it if you want.”

She looked down towards his legs. Anything to avoid his gaze. It was probably best she talk about it; she hadn’t mentioned the incident after she joined Overwatch and Mercy suggested she talk about it with someone she trusted and would understand.

Perhaps she should.

She did trust him.

“No, no it’s fine. It’s probably best I talk about it,” she repeated. She sighed. “I’m not proud of what I did. I was angry. I found out that he was cheating on me, a-and I just … I was so angry.” She stopped, her chest tightening and a lump growing in her throat at the memory. She adverted her gaze, seeing the concerned look in his eyes. 

She knew he didn’t know what happened, wasn’t explaining it well enough for him to get it. But it didn’t seem as important.

There was silence again.

“We can stop- “

“It’s fine. It needs to be talked about.” She took a deep breath.

“So, omnics are counted as citizens in Canada.”

She had to smile at that. She internally rolled her eyes. Americans.

“Yes, they are. Which is why it was counted in the legal system. It was more difficult with – “Her breath hitched.

“The child.”

She felt something loosen in her. She knew it was wrong, but she couldn’t help but let out a small, shuddering gasp as tears started to well in her eyes. She nodded in response, her hands twisting around each other as she looked at him briefly. He seemed sympathetic. She knew he could see what this did to her. She was afraid to say anything more, afraid that she would become even more of a mess.

“Was … the child necessary?” He said it softly, his baritone easing the harsh meaning. She knew he asked it out of curiosity. But it still felt like a slap in the face. 

“He was holding them. I didn’t see them. W-when I shot him …” He nodded. 

And yet again, silence made its way between them.

It wasn’t the only thing she felt like telling him, she remembered as the memory brought back others. She figured that she might as well throw it all to hell and see what happens, he wasn’t going to see her the same after this anyways.

“It was … like losing a child all over again.” She looked up through blurry vision to see his shocked face. She smiled sadly as she explained.

“It was a stillborn. M-my first child. We adopted afterwards. Wanted to try something new, it was a program for an infantile omnic program.” She didn’t say how it affected her however. How much she cried after holding the tiny boy’s cold body. The ceremony they held as they buried him. She felt tears at this point.

“I didn’t realize.” His voice had grown impossibly delicate for a soldier like him. She felt the sorrow in his voice. The understand. The empathy. She smiled through her tears, bringing herself to wipe them away and look at him, wiping her hand on the couch.

“I know you wouldn’t completely understand. But … I just … thank you. Sir. You didn’t have to listen to m-me.” She felt shame replace her sorrow swiftly and efficiently. “You’ve … I know you’ve been on the front lines. You’ve been through so much worse then I have. I-I know my issues ar-“

His voice snapped, harsh yet not cruel. “Don’t. I know you’re berating yourself and your experiences. Look at me.” 

She hadn’t even realized she had closed her eyes. He didn’t look angry. He held a comforting aura that seemed to touch her despite her conflicting emotions. It was a struggle to keep her eyes on him without them drifting elsewhere as he spoke.

“Yes, I’ve been in the battlefields, and yes I’ve seen many people die. Some of them good friends. Some of them recruits I’ve trained personally. It changes you. It hardens you. It isn’t easy.” He leaned back, still maintaining eye contact. 

She could feel herself slowly, but surely, calming. He was easy to listen to. He was leaning on the couch arm, speaking with a calm tone as if it was normal to talk about people dying.

“But that doesn’t mean your experiences mean any less, or that they affected you less than mine. We’re all different here, and we’ve all been through something. Your experiences brought you to this point in your life, and to Overwatch. We’re all glad to have you on our team.” He gave her a smile, which made her own cheeks lift in return. He leaned forward a bit, placing a hand near her leg.

“You’ve been through a lot. It’s ok to fall back sometimes. Just remember that we are here to help and we understand.”

He stood up, moving his way over to the sink again to rinse out the mug. “You should get some rest. You deserve to rest that pretty face of yours.”

She felt her cheeks heat up, and she was sure she could see a smug grin on his face in the dim light. When he finished, he walked past the couch and looked at her, cocky smile still in place. He shut the door behind him and she felt her nerves spring around her body. She couldn’t stop her smile from growing, or her hands pawing at her dress and shifting the fabric as she tried to let her excitement escape. 

He had called her pretty!

She swore that one line changed her entire mood around. She lay down on the couch, head resting on the spot he sat, giddy and giggling. God, she was acting like a child, but it was 3 am, it wasn’t like anyone was there to see.  
Working on her project seemed less important now. Reyes made her realize that she didn’t have to work so hard … maybe for now. She let herself sink into the cushions as she told Athena to play the TV. 

She felt her mind start to dull over with her exhaustion as she watched a few minutes of a sports program play out, switching the channel to a science and exploration and smiling as she caught a documentary of some animal. A tropical bird. She knew she would have to pack up her stuff, but she could rest for a bit.

She felt her eyes close, a quiet but heavy sigh as she let her pushed-back exhaustion take over. Her body just felt so nice and warm and heavy as she let herself be taken by sleep.

Reyes found himself wandering back to the break room after milling around the halls for an hour. He didn’t plan to, but he didn’t really want to go to sleep now, he’d have to be up in a few hours anyways.

He was surprised to hear the TV on as he opened the door, even more so when he saw Moria asleep on the couch. She still had her blueprints and pencils laid out over the far table. He smirked as he walked beside her, crouching near her. He tilted his head, looking over her sleeping form, wondering just how hard she had worked to get her plans where they were.

He looked back towards the door, feeling a bit awkward. Should he just leave her or something? What if someone came in and saw her? He could just imagine she’d be mortified, blushing and fiddling with her dress in embarrassment. As pretty as her blush looked on her, he’d rather it not be from embarrassment. Perhaps he should take her back to her room?

That’d mean he’d have to carry her. Would that be weird?

He shrugged internally. It wasn’t the worst thing to be seen with a beautiful woman in his arms, and who would really be up at this time in the morning? He shifted himself to pick her up, slipping his arms underneath her knees and back, lifting her up easily. She was heavier than he expected. And warm. He froze when she shifted in his arms, curling up to his chest and placing a sleepy hand on it, a delicate groan escaping her. He couldn’t help but smirk and heat up at the intimate gesture, even if it was unintentional.

He started making his way out the room, carrying her down the halls and feeling her gentle weight shift in his arms. It felt … odd. He had carried wounded soldiers off the field like this, blood seeping into his armor and shirt. Never anyone else.

He felt her stir again in his arms, looking down to see her eyes flutter open and look up at him. He burst out laughing when she squeaked and started blushing furiously.

“What are you doing?!”

“What does it look like? I’m taking you to bed. You fell asleep on the couch. Did you want me to put you back?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

She looked away from him, still skittish but not making any move to get out of his embrace. 

“I just, I didn’t know you’d do this … thank you?” He huffed out a smile.

“You need to take better care of yourself. I’m not always gonna be there to carry you. But if want me to, just let me know.” He gave her a wink, delighting in the squirming and deep blush that resulted. He chuckled.

“But in all serious, you need to take care of yourself. Don’t be so fucking hard on yourself to please others. You’re doing fine.”

She was silent, curling inwards on herself again. They didn’t really talk for the rest of the walk, but he felt her head falling onto his chest and her breathing slow down. Once in the sleeping quarters, he asked which room she was in, responding with a sleepy “439”. He stopped in front of her room number, fiddling with her key to open the door as best he could. 

Her room was a bit messy was his first thought as he entered, a pile of what he assumed was dirty clothes piled on a chair and mechanical instruments littering the floor in a corner and on her desk. She had also kept her desk light on.

He moved her to the bed, moving the blankets out of the way to tuck her in, starting to move out of the room as he finished. He started closing the door.

“Reyes?”

He stopped and looked back at her, her head peeking out of the sheets at him.

“Thank you … again.” 

“Yeah. Have a good sleep.”


End file.
